by Sienna Ciles
Cheryl laughed. "Maybe that's why he liked your voice so much. Very soothing."
I shook my head and took the next coffee order. There was no way that Brenden Porter had been flirting with me. Before I knew who he was, there had been that little electric moment, but now I was sure my mind had been playing tricks on me. Brenden Porter did not look twice at mousy baristas.
He didn't look twice at anything, anymore.
I bit my lip. How could I have been so obtuse? When he’d stepped up to the counter, the last thing on my mind was if he was blind or not. His shaggy brown hair was still drying from his morning shower and when he tucked it behind his ears I burned my palms on a hot coffee cup.
He was gorgeous. He had broad shoulders under his tailored suit but a casual way of shrugging that meant he carried his power lightly. He looked so steady, so sure, and so comfortable in his own skin that it had never crossed my mind that he was blind.
It made sense, though. Otherwise a billionaire like Brenden Porter would never stop to talk to me.
But he had. Brenden had lingered at the counter and chatted with me. He'd complimented my voice and caressed my hand.
The thought made my stomach wobbly and warm.
He must have just been flirting from habit. He didn't seem very happy with his girlfriend and perhaps he was just trying to make her jealous. It didn't work.
Besides, his smile had been so strained when he spoke with her. But when he smiled at me. . .
I slammed the cash register closed. "I need a quick break."
Cheryl nodded and called up one of the stock boys she'd been meaning to train. I tugged my apron loose and headed to the sunny back room that doubled as a conference and break room. The soda machine was free and there was always a barista or two hanging around and taking advantage of the free wifi. Today, Alfie and Tiffany were hanging out.
"Dude, I heard you met the snob queen this morning," Alfie asked. He worked the late night shift but used the break room to hide out from his parents at all hours of the day.
I looked around and deduced I had to be the 'dude' he was addressing. "The snob queen?" I asked.
Alfie gave a solemn nod. "We've all had the distinct displeasure of serving her. At least you didn't get her drink order wrong."
"I did, but Cheryl fixed it just in time," I said. There was no use pretending I didn't know who they were talking about. Brenden's girlfriend was the epitome of a server's nightmare.
"She once screamed at me in front of the entire store," Tiffany, our youngest barista said. "And then she apologized and explained to everyone that I had been kicked in the head by a horse."
"Dude, you got off easy," Alfie said.
"She told everyone I was brain-dead and drooling!" Tiffany squeaked.
"Did she stab you in the chest with those evil talon nails of hers?" Alfie asked. "I had the mark on my skin for a week. I even thought about going to an exorcist or priestess. I thought I'd been touched by the devil!"
He crossed himself and Tiffany smacked him on the shoulder. I wasn't thirsty but went to the free vending machine just to escape the conversation.
Alfie didn't stop. "At least the crown prince liked you. I don't normally get more than a few words."
"Nice words," Tiffany said. "He's always nice. He's just so rich I doubt he has anything to talk to us about."
"We didn't really talk," I said. I grabbed my soda and headed for the door.
"Good. I don't want you going on any dates with billionaires. At least not tonight," Alfie said.
I groaned but turned around. "You need someone to cover your shift?"
"Yes. I know it's last minute but my band got a gig and you know that never happens and I can't miss out. It might be our big break. Right, dude?" Alfie slumped to his knees the floor and held his hands up in a beseeching gesture.
"All right. You know I'm going to say yes. I need the money," I said, hauling him to his feet.
"It's a double. Tonight. That's a lot of hours here." Alfie peered at me, honestly concerned. "Are you sure you want to do that to yourself?"
I shoved him out of my way. "I can handle it."
I drank the soda and then made myself a strong green tea. I'd been up late the night before and my eyes were already feeling blurry. Tonight would be a challenge, but the money would make it worthwhile.
*****
I barely had any time to rest at home before returning to take Alfie’s shift, but it was probably better than getting too comfortable and sleeping through it. Besides, evenings weren’t bad. The evening crowd was always different and I liked the steady changes of pace. People came in for a pick-me-up before dinner. Some couples grabbed a quiet coffee before a show. A few singles treated themselves to a coffee before heading home for the night, successful date or not.
"Do you get breaks while you work?" a handsome, single customer asked me. "Want to play a quick game of chess?"
"Chess is never quick," I pointed out. "Besides, it wouldn't look right for me to sit out front."
"Then how about we meet up later?"
I smiled but shook my head. "I'm busy later, too. Sorry. Got pay my bills."
"Well, at least take my card. I'll buy you dinner sometime," he said.
The other baristas giggled at me and imitated the man's flirty wink. I thought the whole world must be going insane. It was ridiculous that just days after I'd sworn off love forever, I was being flirted with and asked out.
"Why won’t you go out with him?" Tiffany asked me. She was in high school and had a different boyfriend stop by every week.
"I really don't have time right now," I said.
"You have to eat. That was at least a free meal," Tiffany said. "Besides, what if he's the one?"
"If he was, I'd know, right?"
Tiffany sighed. "Not if you're so dead set against it."
"Against what?" I asked. I filled one of her orders for her as she studied me with concern.
"Love!" Tiffany flipped her perfect hair. "You are so totally against falling love."
"I have other things on my mind too, you know," I grumbled. Though for the past hour, all I had been thinking about was Brenden's bright and easy smile.
And the way a little shock of electricity had traveled from his fingers up my arm. It had spread across my cheeks in a warm blush I was glad he couldn't see. I'd never felt such a strong reaction to a man's touch before.
I ground my teeth. Of course my over-tired mind would make more out of meeting Brenden Porter than what had really happened. There had been no magic spark when he and I touched. That was all fantasy.
"I'm done with love because I can't stand another heartbreak," I confessed to Tiffany. "At least not until I have my business degree and money in the bank."
Tiffany pushed off the counter and went back to work. She filled a few drinks without a word and then slowly nodded her head. "That's awesome, Faith. My girls are always saying I should take time to do me. And my mom is always saying I need to concentrate on my future more than my love life."
"The love thing just happens. A career and a savings account are what take the real work," I said.
Or so I'd been told.
The love thing had never just happened for me.
That's why I pinched myself a few minutes later when my thoughts turned to the handsome Brenden Porter again. While he'd inhaled my scent, his smile had been so soft and content that my heart had flipped over. But that had to be wishful thinking. Billionaires didn't go for the fake lilac smell of discount shampoo.
But Brenden had been so genuine, so charming and curious about me. I hadn't instigated a single second of the conversation outside of his coffee drink order. That had been all him. And he'd lingered at the counter when most customers wandered off to check their phones or read the bulletin board.
Brenden couldn't do either of those things. So I must just have been his runner-up for a bit of entertainment while he waited.
I resolved not to think of the charming billionair
e again, but as the customers drifted away and we closed the doors, I couldn't help but remember the highlight of my day. I mopped the floor and mooned over the way Brenden looked when he stepped up to the counter. Just imagining it again made my heart pound in excitement. I'd never seen a man so handsome smile directly at me.
I sang a little under my breath as I remembered how much he’d said he liked my voice.
Maybe it was the sleep deprivation but I suddenly felt like Cinderella. I was dreaming up an impossible prince while I did my chores.
And then I stepped outside the coffee shop and saw the flashy, fancy car driving past.
For a split second I thought it was Brenden's car. I imagined his driver casually mentioning I was still at work ten hours later. Brenden would direct the older man to pull over and offer me a ride home.
I blinked and faced the dark parking lot. Or I'd grab the last bus to my neighborhood because I couldn't waste money on a car payment.
I trudged to the bus stop just in time. There was only a handful of riders and I felt exposed every time we pulled up to an intersection. All around me were couples in cars or career women driving their own sports cars. They glanced up at me with pity.
I steeled myself. There was nothing to feel bad about. I was working hard and one day I would earn what I wanted. I'd have a fancy car that I bought myself. I'd have a business I could be proud of. And I would always smile encouragingly at the people I saw saving money by taking the bus.
The bus dropped me at a quiet corner and I dragged my feet down the block. There were four small apartment buildings, each four stories high and set in between old houses that had been there since before the city expanded. My apartment was in the second brick building, just a little studio on the second floor.
Even though three big steps brought me across the entirety of the cramped studio, it was mine and it was peaceful.
I made my way to the teensy bathroom where I peeled off my coffee-stained jeans and dropped them on the floor. The water pressure was terrible but the temperature was just right. I let the whole apartment steam up as I stepped into the shower and scrubbed the smell of cream and caramel out of my hair.
With the lilac shampoo.
What would Brenden think if he knew I’d gotten it in the discount bin because the bottle was horribly dented? I'd been proud of my thrift that day, but now it seemed so sad. Brenden's hair gleamed and had the light scent of mint.
I shook off thoughts of him again and stepped out of the shower.
It was late and my feet ached. I pulled on a soft pair of black pants and stretched across the tight expanse of my apartment. A few minutes of deep breathing and long stretches and I felt a little better.
I pulled my laptop out from its hiding place under my coffee table and opened my school app. After a double shift at the coffee shop, my brain felt like mush. That must have been why it kept spinning back to my meeting Brenden. Still, I rubbed my scalp and forced myself to get focused.
Earning my online business degree was the first step in my new future and I wasn't going to let bone-deep exhaustion get in my way. I carefully read the posted articles and took meticulous notes. It was well past one in the morning when I managed to tear myself away from the computer screen.
With all the numbers and stats and examples I had read, my brain was spinning. To calm down, I went over the day and picked out the lucky and good things that had happened to me.
And I fell asleep smiling as Brenden stepped up to the coffee shop counter in my dreams.
Chapter 4
Brenden
I'd only been at work an hour before I wished for another coffee. Rachel had kept me up half the night before, going room by room with her ideas for redecorating my mansion. As if I cared what color wallpaper was in the hallway.
I yawned and imagined how nice it would be to stand in the coffee shop line again. Faith's melodic voice would lead me to the front and I'd get a chance to hear her smile again.
I had never thought it was possible but my doctors had assured me that soon I would pick up on social cues in other ways. Smiles had a way of warming people's voices while frowns made their voices tighter and gruffer.
Faith's voice had been distracted but warm and smiling. It was the best thing I'd heard all morning.
Rachel had complained all the way to work that she didn't get dropped off first. And I'd been in meetings since then, trying to discern the real intentions of my colleagues through inflections in their voices.
If I couldn't hear the new barista's lovely voice again, I would have to settle for a fresh cup of coffee. I knocked my cane over as I got up, but refused to pick it up. It was the last thing I wanted people to see in the office.
When I counted my steps down to the break room and fumbled my way through the door, I heard all conversation die. My colleagues cringed as I counted my way over to the coffeemaker and groped gently for a clean mug.
"Want me to help with that?" one asked.
"No, thanks. Don't let me interrupt," I said.
I was glad my back was turned as I bit my lip and concentrated on pouring into the mug. I listened to the splashing of the coffee and guessed when it was nearing the top. Everyone gave a sigh of relief when I didn't spill coffee all over everything.
When I first started losing my vision, I had prided myself on fooling people at first. Eventually, though, I started slipping up and I could always feel when they noticed my handicap. They suddenly stuttered, or fell a step behind me.
Now, the break room conversations continued in a halting, awkward manner. I leaned against the counter so as not to make anyone uncomfortable by fumbling for a chair. Still, they all seemed relieved when one of the board members barged in and demanded the room.
"You cornering me, Paulson?" I asked.
James Paulson, a longtime board member and close friend of my father's, blocked the break room door. "How else am I supposed to have a conversation with you. You won't return my phone calls."
I put down my coffee. "That's because there is nothing more to say about the Navy deal. It's a go."
"But what about the numbers I showed you?"
I snorted. "I saw your numbers but they were all projections. You can't say any of that will happen for certain. And I happen to believe we will see a steady return on our investment."
"But what about your father's legacy? He didn't retire just to watch you make risky deals he would never have signed off on," Paulson said.
I stood up and measured my steps until I stood right in front of him. It wasn't hard to stand face to face with him because his breath smelled of an onion bagel and I was able to position myself directly in front.
"The board presents the facts and argues their cases, but my decisions are final," I reminded him. "And I happen to know there are plenty of other board members that back my play."
"'Back my play;' listen to yourself. This isn't high school football, Brenden," he said.
"The board doesn’t run this company. I do.” I leveled my sightless eyes at Paulson's onion-breath face.
Paulson's voice was gritty and I could tell he was frowning. "A lot of board members are waiting to see if you can handle this. It's a lot, Brenden, even for someone--"
"Who can see?" I snapped.
"Someone without additional challenges," Paulson said smoothly. "I promised your father, my friend, that I would look out for your best interests at work."
"Then tell the board of directors the Navy deal goes through," I said.
"I'm sorry, Brenden. We took some hits after your father left. And then to find out about your eyesight, well, the board of directors is reeling. They want stability," Paulson said.
"And what they're getting is a new era," I said. "My father would never have sat on his ass and coasted on what's worked before. He pushed this company to succeed every single day he worked and now that he's happily retired, it's my job to push us into the future. A future I hope you get to see with us."
Paulson inhale
d sharply but softened his tone when he talked next. "Fine. I will speak to the other members about the Navy deal. But the board needs assurances, Brenden. They need to see that you are capable of handling all of this."
I pushed Paulson aside and strode to my office. I thanked my lucky stars that my step counting was correct and I didn't crack into the doorframe as I entered my office. I shut the door behind me and took a few long, deep breaths.
"Get Rachel on the phone," I called to my assistant.
I wanted to hear a friendly voice but I knew I'd made a mistake as soon as Rachel picked up.
"I hope you're calling to tell me you’re getting out of that silly fundraiser. Stacia and Charlene are both bringing their boyfriends tonight. Do you want me to look like some sad fifth wheel?"
"I don't, but I also want to raise money for charity," I said.
She ignored my moral high-ground. "Just write a check. I can't go out alone tonight. You never think about me, Brenden."
I listened to her wheedling and whining and a litany of needs for a few minutes longer before claiming I had an incoming conference call. I hung up on Rachel and spent a full minute hovering over the phone.
I wondered who would pick up if I called the coffee shop. Maybe Faith's melodic voice would greet me. But what would I possibly say?
I jumped two feet when my assistant buzzed in to remind me about the board meeting. "I'll be right there," I said.
The board meeting was a relentless round of hooded remarks and words that didn't really match the speaker's tone. I was pretty sure that some of the board members were signaling to each other across the table as I stood sightless in front of them.
"As we've been meeting like this for over a year now, I think it is only fair that I tell you about the accommodations I've made for my lack of sight." I marched down the table and stopped near Paulson's chair. "I've hired an interpreter to review the footage of our meetings and fill me in on anything I may have missed. Like your written notes. This isn't middle school, Paulson."
There were tight chuckles all around the board table. I could feel quite a few collars being tugged as my colleagues realized they weren't getting away with anything unseen.